Gone
by That-Fresh-Rain-Smell
Summary: Sevruses' love is the kind that kills. Angst, Character death
1. Chapter 1

A/N: okay so I was listening to "Here's Your Letter" and reading Yami-Chan's story (psychological cutting…Erm…read my LJ…link on bio…) and I got the shivers as I thought of this little ficlet. Contrary to what Yami says about songs to listen to while reading hers, I think blink is a great band to listen to, cause the music s so strong it wraps around you like a cocoon…. but whatever.

Songs I suggest for this fic are: Here's Your Letter, True Light, Asthenia, Easy Target and actually All of This works too…I'm Sorry, The Rock Show…erm…non-blink songs: True Light, DN angel theme song. I can't really think of more. Anything you know that's strong ad sends the message "I woke up and she was gone" (tho not she, he) ok soo…

Rating: T or M, one of those…I don't really mess with ratings much, you know if you are mentally strong enough to read whatever you want to read.

Timeline: 6th year

Pairing: Severus Snape, Harry Potter

Summary: if I told you the summary it would ruin it…just read! Its sad and depressing though, and there isn't a happy ending.

Gone 

"Professor?" a small voice woke Severus Snape from the little sleep he had been able to catch. The man sat bolt right up, looking around his pitch-black room for the source of the familiar voice. How the hell would a student get in here, anyway? For no one besides a student ever called him professor…

"Sir?" the voice came again and Snape's eyes narrowed when he caught sight of the famous Harry Potter standing on the left side of his bed.

"What are you doing here, Potter?" he asked, perhaps too tired to take off 1000 points from Gryffindor and strangle the boy.

"Uhm…well, you see sir, I…" Harry trailed off and Snape saw tear tracks on his tanned face.

"Potter aren't you a little too old to be going to the nearest adult so they can hear your sob story?" Snape snapped. Potter was 17, after all.

"No, well, sir, I just wanted to sleep again and I had one of _those_ dreams but no one is in danger and I think its inevitable that I will keep having them and if I go to anyone else they will keep me up and have me retell and retell it when there really isn't anything you can get from it and nothing anyone can do. But they will make a big deal, and…you, won't."

"So why don't you go back to sleep in your own dorm?" Snape asked irritably, wondering vaguely why he wasn't throwing the brat out after deducing points and setting a detention.

"I…can't"

"Why ever not?"

"I just can't, ok?"

"Leave, Potter," Snape finally issued the order.

"No…please, don't send me away."

"What did you see, anyway?"

"…"

"Potter?"

"The…most recent Death Eater meeting." Harry said slowly. Snape sucked in air.

"My, no wonder you're having nightmares. Almost makes occlumency worthwhile, doesn't it, mister Potter?"

"No…I mean, I think Voldem—The Dark Lord send them to me on purpose, and as you yourself sir said, he is a very good ligilimens."

"Very reasonable thinking." Silence stretched between the two as Harry's dream ran over and over in his mind, and the real memory in Snape's. "One last question, how did you get in?"

"Uhm…I sorta have been…well, don't get mad now but I have watched the way you get in and out of your rooms and I followed your lead." Harry winced, expecting to be thrown out on the spot.

"So, you were suspicious of me, and thus proceeded to spy on the spy."

"Well, not exactly…"

"What other reason would you have?"

"…"

"Potter?" Snape prompted for the second time.

"I…don't have any explanation."

"Very well. I suppose you can sleep here tonight, but don't make a habit of it, because you most certainly will not be allowed here again." Snape turned his back to Harry, fully intending to go back to sleep.

"Where do I sleep?"

"Do you think I keep an extra bed here just for you? Sleep on the floor."

"The _stone_ floor?"

"There's a rug"

"Its still cold!" Harry said, and before Snape could protest he slipped between the covers of the large bed, keeping his back to Snape. He heard the man growl something, but was too tired to care, and soon fell asleep, cocooned in warmth that came both from the blanket and Snape.

Severus woke again, this time to find himself sprawled on his back with a heavy weight on his chest. He looked down to find Harry sleeping fitfully, using his torso as a makeshift pillow. One of Harry's hands had strayed precariously close to Snape's inner thigh; the other fell carelessly over a pillow. The dark green blanket twisted around Harry, showing Snape something that he hadn't cared about earlier; Harry slept half-naked, his boxers his only peice clothing. Snape hadn't noticed then, but with Harry's slim figure tangled in _his_ blanket and laying over _his_ body, he was forced to rethink his earlier statement. What was he thinking, allowing Harry to sleep in his bed? He must have gone mad, that was the only explanation. He slowly moved his arm and picked Harry's hand up, moving it away from his leg and slowly pushing the boy off of him. Harry mumbled something about cold and snuggled closer to Snape, who was unable to take any action, seeming as how they had reached the edge of the bed. Snape tried to nudge Harry more towards the middle so he himself wasn't falling off the bed, and Harry rolled over until he was on the farthest side, and when Snape moved into the middle, rolled back so that his back connected solidly with Snape's chest. Severus looked suspiciously at Harry, wondering if he was really asleep or just faking to make an excuse for his actions. The boy seemed to be truly sleeping so there was nothing left for Snape to do but allow it, because every time he tried to move away, Harry followed. Severus gave up and looped his arms around Harry's middle, curling his body around the boy cautiously. When Harry's only response was to move closer, he tightened his grip on him and buried his face in his neck. He had never smelled something so…_intoxicating_. The smell of Harry made his senses reel and caused his throat to emit something close to a moan. Harry said something, but it was so muffled he couldn't hear it.

"What was that?" he asked softly.

"Thank you," Harry said, louder this time.

"For what?" what had he done to deserve a thank you from the boy who's parents he had killed?

"I don't know…being there? Something like that," Harry agreed with himself. Snape nodded. They were quiet, though both could tell the other was awake.

"Severus?"

"Mmmm?" Harry's hand found Snape's, and he moved it lower than its original spot. Cloth was moved aside impatiently before his hand met hard flesh. Snape breathed out slowly.

"Is that what you came here for?" he asked quietly.

"Not at first. I really did need a place to sleep. But I have always wanted—"

"Always?"

"Well, perhaps not always, but a long, long time." Snape was quiet, and Harry worried he had already gone too far. He was truly lucky just to sleep in Snape's bed.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be forward or anything, I was just…you were all…and…I…"

"Shh…" the soft, velvety voice in his ear caused him to gulp involuntarily. The hand that had been sitting unmoving on his inner thigh shifted, wrapping around his length and starting to rub up and down without a decisive pattern. Harry let out an involuntary groan and pressed back against Severus, his lower back brushing the man's own erection. Snape increased his speed, loving the mixture of sounds Harry was emitting. He softly kissed the place just below Harry's ear, trailing down his neck and then back up again, his tongue flicking out between kisses to lick soft skin. He slowed the pace of his hand as he nipped at Harry's earlobe and ran his tongue lightly across his jaw, entranced with the taste as well as smell of Harry.

Soon Sevruses' hand moved to slip off Harry's boxers, coming back up his body and over his chest. Harry turned in his grip to get a good look at Snape before he pushed down the man's own pajama pants and boxers, moving his hands over his pale chest. Snape's arms tightened around Harry, bringing their bodies closer together, skin to skin. Harry let out a whimper as his erection was pressed against Snape's, and the other man grinned almost wickedly. Snape's hand trailed up along the side of Harry's body, dipping into the hollow between neck and shoulder and continuing to rake his fingernails lightly up the boy's neck, over his cheek, and to his mouth. Harry caught on instantly and opened his mouth, allowing two of Snapes fingers to enter, sucking eagerly on them. After a moment Snape pulled his fingers away, trailing Harry's saliva, and rolled the boy over so that his back was pressed hard against the sheets, with Snape straddling him. Looking for any sign that he was going too far, he slowly inserted his fingers into Harry's tight hole, using his other hand to grip his hip, restraining him. Harry yelped as Snape's fingers slid into his opening, one of his hands coming to his mouth to muffle a scream as Snape moved his fingers in and out, scissoring and twisting, while his other hand clenched tightly in the white sheets. The fingers pulled away soon and Harry looked up at Snape.

"Have you done this before?" The man asked, voice barely above a whisper. Harry shook his head as Snape's mouth descended on his, tongue coming out to flick over Harry's bottom lip until Harry opened his own mouth, eagerness apparent as his tongue tangled with the other. Snapes hips thrust forward and Harry screamed into his mouth as Snape entered him, both hands now on Harry's hips to restrain him. His thrusts fell into a rhythm, and Harry's screams melted into pleasured moans. Snape's lips moved from Harry's mouth and down his throat, red, flushed skin appearing when his lips moved to a new place, finding sensitive skin with his tongue, creating louder groans that emitted from Harry.

Pleasure rolled over Harry, sensations tingled as each touch from Snape created new feelings within him. He felt his muscles clench in the familiar way, the feeling magnified so many more times greater than when he had gotten himself off, and came, rolling out on the waves of delight as Snape continued to pump in and out of him until he came also. They lay there, spent, with no will to move. Finally Snape rolled over and grabbed his wand off the bedside table, muttering a quick cleaning spell before turning back to Harry, who still lay there, eyes closed, breath ragged. Thinking the boy asleep, he voiced his question.

"Do you regret it?"

"No," a breathy whisper answered him, startling him. Snape lay down, once again bringing Harry against him, back to chest. He was almost asleep when a faint voice broke into the mist surrounding his mind.

"Do you?"

"No, I do not," he answered it in a mumble, dropping off the edge of the cliff into a dreamless sleep.

Snape woke sometime around dawn, skin touching something cold. He moved around a bit, and discovered that the covers were indeed still pulled high over his head, there was no way he could be cold, no reason he _should_ be cold. He drew away from Harry a bit and the cold instantly left. Puzzled, he touched a hand to Harry's skin and yanked it back. Cold as ice. He rolled Harry over and tossed the blankets to the side. Harry was pale, paler than any living person could be. His lips were ghostly white, with a tinge of blue, and his eyes remained closed. Snape pressed a frantic two fingers to his throat, and found no pulse. Harry was dead. Severus grabbed him by his shoulders and shook, to no avail. What could have--?

And then he remembered.

_"Since your love seems to kill, Severus, I place a curse on you, so that anyone you ever love--and who returns the feeling--will die a slow death. If you have intimate relations with that person, they will die all the sooner, for your love is the kind that kills." _Voldemort's voice rang in his head, as his mouth opened, trying to suck air back into his deprived lungs. At the time the curse was laid, he hadn't cared, thinking that no one could ever love him and that he didn't love others, so the curse was a futile mistake. But now he knew. He himself had committed the murder of the only hope for the world that was left. Harry's blood was on his hands. He felt like a stone had hit him full-force in the chest. He had loved someone. They had loved him _back_. And he had killed them. It seemed his father was right, as he always was; Severus Snape was not meant to be born, not mean to love, or be loved, and, no matter how he, as a person, felt, he was only good for causing pain and death upon those he cared for. And that's all he'd ever be.

A/N: Sooo yeah… What do you think? I think the ending is a bit too angsty, but what can I say? I love angst ;) So…review? First smut scene, tell me what you think? I got this idea when I was in Wisconsin, and started writing it then too, but it took until now--almost a month later! --To finish it. Guess that shows you how hard the smut scenes are for me. I'm fine with writing porn, or writing love (i.e. the kind shown in kisses or words or touches) but writing two people _making_ love, its hard, cause I don't connect sex with love. I suppose that's a bit sad. Lol well, now I'm going to go write chapter 13 of always. Sorry! I keep popping out these oneshots instead of working on my WIP, so Sorry! Will finish the multi-chapter, I promise.


	2. UPDATE

For anyone following this story, but not following me as an author, you should know that I've revamped this story and it is now available on my profile as 'Gone (Revamped)'  
Thanks!


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